Live Review: Maryland Deathfest 2025
If you’re like me, Maryland Deathfest probably conjures up one of two images: a gathering of the crustiest of crusty metalheads enduring temperatures hotter than the sun in the homeland of John Waters to see some of the deepest cuts of extreme metal spanning the ages OR a couple of folks getting down and dirty in the Autopsy pit. If both popped into your mind, that’s fine too.
For years, MDF has been the standard for an American heavy metal music festival. Taking notes from European festivals, it catered specifically to the needs of folks who loved that one death metal band from 1987 who put out just that one demo that was so good and then they never did anything again. Until they were cajoled into travelling halfway across the world in 2015 to play that one demo in a parking lot in the heart of Baltimore to a crowd of people sweating like Bill Duke in Predator. And those folks were shelling out the cash for inconvenient parking, overpriced beer, and a shitty hotel on top of the price of tickets, so you know their hearts were in it.
Unlike the mega festivals with their fancy schmancy Monster Energy corporate backing, MDF’s been running things their way since 2003. This pirate ship has been sailing for a while and in the 22 years since its inception, I think the organizers have figured out how to run it pretty well. Of course, like any good pirate ship, the fest has had a turbulent history when actually pulling it off. Bands have dropped off at the last minute countless times to be replaced with some generic local kids to fill the void. Security was more aggressive than some of the bands playing. Sound issues galore. Detective Jimmy McNulty tried to pin a murder on Pig Destroyer. I’m not sure if that last one is true, but let’s just pretend it is.
My first excursion down to MDF was in 2022. The 2020 and 2021 editions had been cancelled/postponed because of COVID. After a couple years deprived of live music, I opted to take a chance at MDF the year it came back. Joe and Jordan did their own episode covering the absolute chaos and tragedy that transpired there as did I back when I was still doing the Diary of Doom podcast. You can check that episode out here if you are so inclined, featuring Nathan Sizemore from the horror movie podcast, I Hope You Suffer. We cover a lot of the same ground between the two, the big difference being that I wound up catching the Omicron variant of COVID and Joe and Jordan did not.
2022 was billed as the final MDF, but the festival wound up returning, presumably because they made a couple of bucks upon return from pandemic hiatus. They skipped 2023 (supplanted by Hell in the Harbor for the year) and came back in 2024. I didn’t attend, taking advantage of my geographic location in NYC to catch the MDF adjacent tours for AHAB and Sodom. When the bands started rolling out for 2025, I kept my eyes on it. More names got added to the bill that enticed both myself and my girlfriend, Sarah, so we decided to pull the trigger and get ourselves some tickets to Maryland Deathfest 2025.
Maryland Deathfest ran from Wednesday, May 21st to Sunday, May 25th this year. We opted to take the train down from NYC to Baltimore, which was my first time doing so. We headed down on Wednesday and it was a smooth commute down, very easy, can’t recommend it enough. Public transportation is a good thing. We took a car over to the hotel, which was about a 15 minute walk from the Inner Harbor area in which the festival was being held. MDF has since done away with the Edison Lot, which I think is to everyone’s benefit.
Besides the longer walk back to the rest of the venues and general lack of shade, the lot had to be evacuated in 2022 due to a rapidly growing thunderstorm (a tornado warning had been issued earlier in the day, thankfully said tornado did not arrive), forcing the organizers to move Obituary and Carcass to the smaller area. There was a pre-fest event that afternoon/evening, but we opted out of it because creepy Bobby Liebling just don’t do it for me.
Thursday we went to the National Aquarium in the Inner Harbor, which is a great aquarium if you’re into that sort of thing. The John Carpenter-esque soundscape for the jellyfish exhibit was perfect for it, I had to pull out my phone and hit my Shazam app. I assumed the app would not give me any answer as it normally does and was surprised to see it come up with the artist: Greg Pierce and the album is called Sea Notes. I’ve already listened to it twice.
But after that, I was heading to MDF solo that day to hit up the formerly Ram’s Head and now rebranded as Nevermore Hall, after Baltimore’s seminal spooky writer, Edgar Allen Poe. Nothing looked any different other than the branding and logo. Even the wristbands still said Ram’s Head. It was still the pretty big, multi-level venue I remember it being.
In previous editions of MDF, the doomier and sludgier ilk of bands permeated into the other days and stages, but Thursday seems to now be the day for when things go low and slow. 2025 was the year for death-doom and funeral doom. I wound up making a couple of trips back and forth between sets to the hotel to drop off fest merch, which was selling like dubai chocolate.
The very first band I saw was Bloodspore from Philly. Despite the frontman saying the classic “We’re gonna play an old one”, the band’s first release was dropped in 2019, so they aren’t THAT old. Their schtick seems to be writing about various fungi and other gross stuff, so they either have really good opinions about The Last of Us or they don’t. Regardless of that, I enjoyed their set quite a bit. Very thick and chuggy death doom more on the death side and their stage setup was complimented by the spider webs clinging to every bit of equipment.
Walking back to the hotel, this skinny, long haired hesher guy that had a swift comment for everything (you know the type) called out “VIN DIESEL!!!” at a guy who had a passing resemblance to Dominic Toretto, purely because he was bald, wearing a sleeveless shirt and lacked tattoos and was kinda jacked. It was probably about the eighth time that day he had that comment yelled at him.
This was followed by Dusk, a band somehow 30-years-old. And don’tcha knoow, they’re from Wisconsin. I know you can hear the accent. They set the mood for the rest of the evening, delivering a thick wall of sonic distortion augmented by ethereal synths. Dusk also features two vocalists, the primary dungeon gurgle of bassist Steve Crane and the obviously lighter and brighter but no less dramatic presence of Dana Ignarski. For the moment I was into the vibe and clearly the audience was as well, actively shouting out song requests from their long tenure.
I took a dinner break between sets before I went back into Nevermore Hall and I need to stress how much I want to just write Ram’s Head. Now I have to work my fingers extra hard to make up for all these new syllables. I missed most of the Evoken set because I had just seen them prior to the festival. Another band of 30 odd years, but this one I knew because not only did they pop up during my early dips into doom metal, they’re also from the motherland: New Jersey!
Sadly, we can’t say Evoken from Hoboken because they’re from Lyndhurst. I like Evoken. Yes, the albums are commitments in terms of length, but I dig the variety of sounds here, ranging from quieter but still tense stretches to synth bridges to cavernous climaxes of death metal riffs, backdropped by some bleak ass visuals. All worthwhile to hear frontman John Paradiso hype up the crowd for the following band in his heavy NJ drawl: MOAWNFUHL CAHNGREGAYTION. Pure authentic Jersey Italian.
And speaking of which in normal tones, Mournful Congregation, who was one of the bands that drew me to the festival, delivered a sublime performance. I had caught them just a bit earlier in the month on their stop at TV Eye in Queens because they rarely hit the states and so I wanted to capitalize on their visit. At the preceding show, they did not take the stage until after midnight, so needless to say that a 9:25 start time was very welcome.
Despite some guitar pedal issues for frontman Damon Good, the rest of the band more than covered up for him with their all-encompassing sound and he was back in action soon enough. Whoever was doing lights for this set did an excellent job, adding another layer of atmosphere to the performance. On the way out later that night, I managed to catch their noodly guitar player just housing some wings outside of one of the local bars. Good on you, mate, you deserve those flats and drummies.
I closed out the long evening with Shape of Despair. I can’t say I am a really big fan of theirs, if a fan at all. I don’t think I have ever actually listened to any of their albums, but I figured, fuck it, if I am here and they’re here, I may as well catch these Fins while they’re in town and I think I made the right call. I managed to get a barrier spot for the set, mostly because my feet were already killing me and I wanted to lean on something. Fatigue must have been getting to other folks as well.
Before the set, a couple walking up to the barrier remarked, “Oh shit, this is the same place. We just came in a different door!” There was very little banter, if any, from the band aside from a quick intro and an even quicker thank you. They definitely have a sound they are comfortable with and so the set started to feel a bit repetitive towards the end, but if you’re going to catch one Scandinavian atmospheric funeral doom band, it may as well be them. By the end of the set, I felt like I was being lulled to bed.
I also saw a bit of Satan’s Satyrs and Witchcraft on the outdoor stage since you have to pass it in order to get into Nevermore Hall. I don’t really like either of those bands, in particular Witchcraft whom I feel is one of the most overhyped and underwhelming bands to emerge from the stoner doom scene. I am almost positive they forgot to plug in one of their instruments fully, resulting in a long break between songs early in the set, which I felt was downright embarrassing.
Friday we didn’t go to the fest as there weren’t enough bands that grabbed either of our interest or we had seen them already. Havukrunnu had dropped off the bill by that point and was replaced with Krallice, who is great, but I expect to see them again in NY at some point. Skepticism would have been a nice addition to the funeral doom procession, but not enough to justify a ticket purchase. Hopefully they will come back someday so I can cross them off the list. We spent our day walking around the harbor, getting lunch at an Italian deli, napping, and then getting pizza and beer at Johnny Rad’s and Ministry of Brewing, whom I gifted a bottle of 3 Floyds Dark Lord because I have too many. Over at MDF, the power was lost at Nevermore Hall which created all manner of problems that we didn’t have to deal with thankfully.
The rest of the weekend we spent bouncing back and forth between the Market Place stage and Power Plant Live. Crossing the one heavily used street to get to either venue was a little dicey, but more people abided by the stoplight than the drivers. Our cab driver had remarked that Baltimore had awful drivers and I think I was starting to see why. Still, there were no vehicular incidents to my knowledge. On Saturday, we did some merch shopping after we got our wristbands before loading up on salad at Whole Foods because I had to make sure I was passing good BMs.
I had brought my camera to use on Saturday and Sunday at the outdoor stages but grabbed the wrong battery charger. I hadn’t charged it before arriving so all I used it for was the Hirax set before running back to the hotel to drop it off. The universe was telling me to just enjoy myself, so there was no sense in carrying it if it was going to crap out on me any moment.
Speaking of Hirax, they were good! I’d seen them opening for Sodom last year and was happy to see them again. Sarah isn’t a big thrash fan, but she remarked that singer Katon W. de Pena’s stage presence made it a worthwhile set for her. He spread the love out to many of his peers, cracked jokes about managing to fit 14 songs into the last ten minutes of the set, and was just all smiles the whole time. At this point, we also noticed a few dozen people were watching the festival from the parking garage. They were shouted out by multiple bands throughout the weekend and we would periodically look up to see what the population was like during the course of the festival.
While at the hotel to drop off my lifeless camera, I managed to break my belt, resulting in an impromptu visit to the local Marshall’s to acquire a new one. Thankfully they had a cheap one in my size. The cashier, perhaps sarcastically, asked if I needed the tag cut off to put it on. I sure did because I had to use my bandana as a makeshift belt in order to get back without dropping trow on the street.
We got back in time to see a good chunk of Razor’s set before we sought out beers. Sarah noted the band reached over 100db based on her Apple Watch’s reading and was suggesting to put in ear protection. Oh, you don’t say! We made our way back to see Orange Goblin. Despite the positive reviews for the last and final album (as it currently stands), I wasn’t super into it, but Orange Goblin was one of the first stoner metal bands I really got into in college and felt compelled to check out their final stateside tour.
Of the three times I have seen, I think this might have been the best. The band sounded tight and singer Ben Ward, no longer just a giant man, but now a very jacked giant man, kept the banter appropriate between songs as they plowed through a career setlist including old cuts like “Blue Snow” and “Made of Rats.” The crowd was into it and calls for setlists were in high demand. Guitarist Joe Hoare even tried his hand at a paper airplane that hilariously landed in someone’s hair that didn’t care about a setlist, prompting ravenous fans to grab at the paper trapped in this fella’s locks. We caught a bit of Kronos at Power Plant and then took another beer break and made friends with Vinnie from NJ (because of course his name was Vinnie) and chatted with him for a few minutes.
We quickly hoofed it back over to the Market Place for Sigh, which was a highlight of the weekend for many. Sarah in particular was super excited for this set as she was anxiously checking social media for any report of entry issues, but thankfully Sigh made it through. In fact, there didn’t seem to be many bands that dropped off this year or at least bands that we were interested in. A strange happenstance given the festival’s history of overpromising and underdelivering yet prevailing over the current Presidential administration efforts to curtail foreign entry in the country.
The Japanese black metal band put on a showstopper performance, decked out in traditional garb and amplified with corpse paint, blood, masks, staffs, and two different flutes. It was a little odd to see some kids onstage playing other instruments against the backdrop of these folks drinking fake blood and making out with each other, but it was what it was. The only major problem with Sigh was that either they didn’t bring a lot of merch with them or that metalheads are freaks and picked it over well before we arrived at the merch booth. Beyond that, a fantastic set that I believe made a lot of people happy given the band has not visited the US in 16 years.
We bounced back to Power Plant to see Paradise Lost doing Draconian Times in full. I’d been pretty excited to cross Paradise Lost off my list, but I was disappointed with the set. Draconian Times is a great album, but I wish they had been freed up to perform a wider selection from their long running discography. Sarah remarked that the previous time she had seen them, they had more energy and sounded better. Perhaps it was an off day, maybe the sound wasn’t up to snuff for the set. Ultimately, we dipped out early to secure a good spot for the last set of the day.
And that final set was Tom G. Warrior’s Triptykon. This was the first of two sets they’d be doing for the festival. When I attended in 2022, Tom also put on two sets, one Triptykon and the other his Hellhammer tribute, Triumph of Death. The previous performances plus an additional Triumph set at Psycho Las Vegas 2019 had all been killer and this was no exception. They may have even sounded better this go around. Tom and the band started right on time and the audience was relishing in his presence.
Tom is a master of self-deprecation, perfecting the balance of knowing what he is doing is just a teensy bit ridiculous but being fully committed to his life’s art. I cannot stress how good the rest of the band is, filling in on vocals when needed and absolutely killing it on their instruments. The audience responded with resounding applause and many OUGHs. In the crowd near us, two dudes showed up dressed in full suits. Either they just got there from work or were going for an ironic look. Another person crowd surfed in a garbage can, no doubt throwing the barrier security for a loop as they slowly floated over to them, the detritus cauldron ungracefully moved by the crowd below. We called it a night after that.
Sunday we did another long walk around the area, got Sarah some frozen custard, and once again loaded up at the Whole Foods salad bar before doing some pregaming and finally heading over to the fest around 4. We did another round of merch shopping for patches (I walked away with patches for Kyuss, Candlemass, and Sodom). For the final day of MDF, I wore my Toilet ov Hell t-shirt and I think I can safely say I was the only one wearing one of those.
Sunday seemed like the drunkest day of the weekend. Maybe everyone was very hungover and the only cure was more National Bohemian. Whatever the case, for a few hours it felt like the grimy festival weekend I’d experienced in 2022, but something tells me the 50+ crowd was steadily looking for water and seating as the day went on.
Incantation kicked off our day. They were also doing a full album set, this one for Onward to Golgotha. Unlike the Paradise Lost set, Incantation sounds like Incantation on every Incantation album and song and so if cavernous death metal is your thing, then they absolutely delivered. This was my first time seeing them and I thought they were great, doing exactly what they do best. I have to shout out the guy waving the two toilet brushes around during the set, but mostly because when he walked by us, Sarah and I experienced easily the foulest stench that seeped into the festival. I know some of these folks are dedicated lifers, but they should become dedicated to a shower and several applications of deodorant.
We gave Civerous a quick viewing. Hailing from California, this was their first time on the East Coast as a band and we were impressed with them. They did a nice mix of blackened death with a little doom thrown in and even got a bit techy or proggy. We departed from their set early to get back to our spot at the Market Place by a trash can for Nile, whom Sarah was amped to see. I’d seen Nile some years before at the Starland Ballroom in Sayreville, NJ and I remember them being stupidly loud and over the top. They had some new members this time and unfortunately they started late due to some kind of issues with Karl’s sound board or triggers. It took about 15 minutes past their start time to finally get it together and more than a couple of songs to finally get the sound dialed in correctly, so we only got a few really good sounding Nile tracks out of it. They kept as close as they could to sticking to their ending time. It came together by then, but I think Sarah is due another Nile show in the future.
Sarah absolutely refused to see the next band. Gutulax, named after the medication used to treat constipation and spur on bowel movements, must have been one of the best received bands of the entire weekend. Power Plant was packed to the gills to see these fecal themed freaks bop around in white hazmat suits as toilet paper hung from the lighting rig and giant inflatable poop emojis and toilet bowl lids were tossed amongst the crowd. A lot of the songs sounded the same, a bizarre mix of pummeling drums, mashing guitar, and brutal bass to create a bouncy rhythm that almost hit polka levels at times accompanied by pig squeals, snorting, and various other unpleasant sounds emanating from vocalist Maty’s throat. They did a two-second Meshuggah cover. They got people to fucking dance to songs about shit. I’ve never seen anything like it before and will think of it every time I sit upon my porcelain throne.
I met back up with Sarah for the Dark Funeral set. She caught them prior when they were opening up for Gwar and was excited to see them again. Dark Funeral’s music is just about as by the books black metal as you get, but they wear funny outfits, really like the fog machine, and generally seem to be having a good time for being large, old, stoic men from Sweden. It still cracks me up that guitarist Lord Ahriman was the visual inspiration for a character in Guitar Hero but there was nary a black metal song in those games, at least back then. I can’t speak for what may have shown up in the many Guitar Hero spin-offs to follow, so maybe there was a black metal track featured in the Aerosmith or Wiggles edition. I did take perhaps my favorite picture of the weekend when I departed early to go to Popeye’s for dinner.
As the Market Place stage was fenced off from the surrounding area, it left just a thin walkway for normies to pass by. We’d caught dozens of them with utterly perplexed looks on their faces and justifiably so. But on this trip, I saw a woman and her three kids dancing and having an absolute blast while this really loud and really silly metal band was playing. I’m sure they had no idea what this shit was all about, but it brought me endless joy.
After crushing my delicious chicken sandwich from Popeyes (best $6 spent during the weekend), we grabbed a couple more drinks and got back to Market Place for the second Tom G. Warrior set, Triptykon performing Celtic Frost classics. There’s not really much to say here other than we got to see a living, breathing version of Celtic Frost and we’re all the more happy for it. Over the course of 11 songs, they broke out the hits: “Circle of Tyrants”, “The Usurper”, “Into the Crypts of Rays”, “Dethroned Emperor”, and more. Sadly no “Mexican Radio” or “Morbid Tales”, but can’t complain about the rest. I’m sure there’s some part of Tom that wishes he could play, well, anything else, but you can tell the man loves where he came from and playing this music brings him as much joy as it did for the crowd. If you have a chance to see Tom in action, go do it.
At this point, Sarah headed back to the hotel while I stuck around to head over to Angel’s Rock Bar. Admission was free with your day pass and I was there to see No/Mas and Oxygen Destroyer. I’d seen both bands before, but wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to see them again. No/Mas easily had the wildest crowd and rightly so. Their chaotic energy brought the room together with people practically flying over one another. Wormrot may have one upped it, but I didn’t have access to their festival closing set, so I can’t confirm. No/Mas also had the most political set I’d seen over the course of the weekend, with guitarist John having written FUCK ICE in green tape on the backside of his guitar and vocalist Roger proclaiming “Free Palestine!” to much applause. Given MDF’s history of hosting some sketchier bands, it was refreshing to hear such positivity from the crowd given the tense nature around the Gaza war.
Oxygen Destroyer did not have their video screen set up, but that’s okay because they whipped ass. As a longtime Godzilla fan, I am morally obligated to love this band. They got to start a little early and managed to sneak in an extra song before wrapping up. Their guitarist, Joey Walker, is a tiny little dude who looked downright terrified as giant drunk metal dudes threw the horns up in his face while professing how much they loved him. I opted to leave little Joey alone as he timidly handed out guitar picks to drooling fans.
The next day was Memorial Day. We got on the train back to NY and let me tell you, I was so happy to sleep in my own bed and poop in my own John. All in all, Sarah and I had a great time at Maryland Deathfest 2025. We found the festival to be pretty well-run and actively posted updates. Bands generally went on at their slotted times barring unexpected things like the Friday power outage, but nothing that affected the bands we wanted to see. We dealt with the overlaps. The fest itself wasn’t overcrowded so there was plenty of breathing and walking room. It’s an easy event to get to from NYC and I ran into more than a few folks from around these parts. Security never gave us a hard time, though we stayed clear of the pits. Our fellow attendees were pleasant enough to be around or chat with the few times we did. The festival attracted all manner of folks that broadly speaking seemed very composed, which contrasted against the feral nature of the festival goers back in 2022. Of course, you had people dressed as a hot dog and wearing hats that said “I pee in pools” that stood out against the sea of black clothing.
There was a man hanging in a tree outside the fence during the Triptykon set. We spotted at least two furries in the crowd. But folks were there to have a good time and make friends. I saw the aforementioned “Vin Diesel” allow a freshly 21-year-old kid up to the barrier for Shape of Despair. Nice stuff like that outweighed edgelords trying to provoke a reaction out of people. It had the vibes of folks drinking responsibly. The worst shirt I saw was a Punisher skull made out of AR-15s.
Right now, the lineup for 2026 isn’t holding our interest much, so it’s not on the docket for next year, but you never know who will be announced. If the lineup fleshes out to our interests, maybe we will hit it up again. I think MDF has come a long way since their inception and if they can continue to handle the fest the way they currently do, I think they have a few more years left in them to deafen Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.
